I had no expectations,
But—My Lord!
This soup is exquisite!
My, oh my!
I can tell you—my belly is full. Bulging.
I’m stuffed.
—Waiter! (finger snap!)
What’s the special? I’m on a gluten-free diet.
And I’ll have another, if you please!
... – by Luciana Fisher | 33 Views added 6 hours ago
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I,
I fell in between,
Silently hidden,
Forgotten in the middle.
Pressed in the gaps
Between your snaps
And the cracks of your riddles.
Looking to you for cues,
Waiting on clues,
So I can shift-shape
Into whom or what you want me to be—
... – by Luciana Fisher | 36 Views added 7 hours ago
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This could have been a love tale—
a tale of us!
Granddaughter, grandmother.
Both fragile, strong—and stubborn—
We allowed resentment to build up in the cracks, and
longing to linger in the seams.
Years passed—
We danced around the silence... – by Luciana Fisher | 26 Views added 9 hours ago
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What is time if not an elusive, capricious thing?
We want more of it—but with more of it, we age.
And if we age, we have less time.
What an elusive, capricious thing—time is,
Was,
Is,
... – by Luciana Fisher | 21 Views added 10 hours ago
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Give yourself permission.
Permission to think,
Permission to rethink,
Permission to talk,
Permission to walk away.
Permission to sit still,
Permission to make noise,
Permission to write,
Permission to sing.
Permission to disrupt... – by Luciana Fisher | 22 Views added 10 hours ago
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What can I caption
that you have not seen or heard?
In the era we are the herd.
Followed, unfollowed, and blurred.
Swiping unsure of who we are or were.
Where a tick that is blue
Only turns us blue
With envy and sorrow
While our mental... – by Luciana Fisher | 49 Views added 11 hours ago
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I have lived in many houses,
but never at home.
The plastic bag in which I kept my belongings faithfully aided me
with getting here
and there,
while facing the unknown.
(How does it feel like? To have a home?)
I grew up around people but... – by Luciana Fisher | 44 Views added 12 hours ago
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The wind is blowing.
There is snow on the ground now.
The cold is fitting.
I welcome it, yet it feels even colder inside—where I cannot find the warmth of you.
Time did not get the memo, as though it refuses to acknowledge the weight of this... – by Luciana Fisher | 126 Views added 1 day ago
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There is nothing like Christmas in New York.
The bustling streets of Manhattan
Craft a mesmerizing symphony of sounds.
The lights and the colors add to the festive glee felt all around.
There's magic in the air when the busy city... – by Luciana Fisher | 120 Views added 2 days ago
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Goodbye is growth.
There comes a moment when you will do something for the last time. Maybe you’ll realize it, maybe you won’t. But in that moment, a shift will occur. Your compass will point in a new direction. Your frequency will change,... – by Luciana Fisher | 117 Views added 2 days ago
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Inside of me and
Never letting me be
Sticking me in “my place.”
Endless circles in this race.
Curbing my courage
Undermining my wits
Restlessly putting caps on my abilities
Inexplicably,
Trying so hard to fail me, never letting me breathe!
... – by Luciana Fisher | 25 Views added 21 days ago
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Start your journey on Hope Avenue—
walk with purpose until you reach Courage Road.
Take a right and feel the strength beneath your feet as you climb.
The path is steep, but each step rewards you with a deeper sense of accomplishment.
Soon,... – by Luciana Fisher | 8 Views added 21 days ago
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Begin on Loneliness Avenue—keep moving straight. The road stretches endlessly, quiet except for the echo of your own footsteps. Soon, you’ll reach the crossroads at Regret Road. Turn left, but tread carefully; the air grows heavier with each step,... – by Luciana Fisher | 43 Views added 21 days ago
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I could stare at you all day,
As you meet my gaze and rarely look away
I remember the first time I saw you,
So tiny! You could fit in the palm of my hand.
You were always shy and afraid,
Hiding under every piece of furniture,
As I begged,... – by Luciana Fisher | 148 Views added 1 month ago
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Sad realization—
our writing is not always going to be good,
just as our food is not always going to be good.
At least, maybe not to your palate. Or theirs. His or hers.
Sometimes, not even to mine.
Perfection will not be achieved on a... – by Luciana Fisher | 243 Views added 1 month ago
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There is a poem here,
but I don’t want to promote it.
I don’t want it to come to you—that easy.
I want you to come to it.
To find it.
To rescue it from a strange corner on the internet,
from a dusty shelf,
or a quiet store.
I want it to... – by Luciana Fisher | 134 Views added 1 month ago
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I speak three languages.
The first is Portuguese,
With the "Rs" pronounced deep in the throat—rrrrr.
A romance language, rich in beauty and vast vocabulary.
Its structure grid, a maze.
Its dominance, for those who truly
Master this bull.
... – by Luciana Fisher | 133 Views added 1 month ago
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Who Are We?
Who are we, if not a collection of our memories?
I am the baby on the window,
The girl on the floor,
The teen who could always love more—
Full of hopes and dreams,
The woman who lost a child,
Yet still learned how to sing.
I... – by Luciana Fisher | 206 Views added 1 month ago
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There is a poem in me—
I must birth it to set it free.
At this moment, I cannot write.
I have been stripped of a power I’m not even sure I ever had.
Inspiration has ceased to inspire.
The muse has left the building without notice.
Luck did... – by Luciana Fisher | 177 Views added 1 month ago
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My Uncle Was — Is — A Great Man
The man I knew and admired,
My Uncle, has retired,
But he will never cease to do what's required.
No. Not my Uncle! His legacy will continue — to INSPIRE!
My Uncle was a hard worker,
A family man,
A... – by Luciana Fisher | 50 Views added 2 months ago
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I write with an urgency
unknown to men.
Insignificant as I am,
I write for every woman, man, and child, never able to carry a pen.
With the soul purpose
of righting all the wrongs,
that left them without a chance to leave in ink a mark of... – by Luciana Fisher | 242 Views added 2 months ago
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I no longer wear make-up.
Nor on my skin,
Cheeks, nose, or chin,
But on my lips.
No, I do not use make up.
—You can touch.
I am as raw and bare as one can witness or dare to stare!
Nor do I mince my words either!
Which, like my poor... – by Luciana Fisher | 261 Views added 2 months ago
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I no longer wear make-up.
Nor on my skin,
Cheeks, nose, or chin,
But on my lips.
No, I do not use make up.
—You can touch.
I am as raw and bare as one can witness or dare to stare!
Nor do I mince my words either!
Which, like my poor... – by Luciana Fisher | 60 Views added 2 months ago
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The sea
I sail
Is silent.
So silent—it almost fooled me.
It required no license or permit.
You see,
The. C. that. I. sail.
Is. silent.
It cares not—
If I sail or sink,
Seizing,
At high speed,
Every cell inside of me.
You see,
More... – by Luciana Fisher | 342 Views added 3 months ago
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